


After The Grand Prix

by Angelblaze



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Eros Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelblaze/pseuds/Angelblaze





	

Viktor overlooks Yuuri's last performance of his short program in comparison to the first, messy time. The untrained eye might think nothing's improved as they are the same performance with the same skater, but there's improved sharpness in his leaps, the straightness in his legs and the confidence in his gaze.  
  
It's three weeks before the Grand Prix final, six in the afternoon. Yuuri's spent the day practicing again, his family's gone out shopping to restock the store and he's resting on the couch of the family inn, noting all the little improvements here and there, which is Yakov's fault. Back when he was a professional skater he didn't care about these things, he got on the ice, put on a smile and poured his heart out. Yakov's breathing down his neck that made him more critical of the smallest details. Which lead to him getting burnt out on the sport entirely.  
  
Viktor groans, times like these he hates because there's nothing to do in this inn at the best of times and all that down time ends up with him thinking about his past.  
  
He is twenty years too old to enjoy thinking about his past.  
  
The weight of the couch arm under his head shifts. He flicks his eyes up and smiles at Yuuri. Normally, if he was Yakov, he'd be pointing out every little flaw in the older video without praising the other one, inflicting retroactive guilt for lacking experience he has no that he didn't have in the past.  
  
If he couldn't handle it for his career, and he couldn't, because while Yakov is a decent man at heart there's only so much retroactive disrespect he can take, Yuuri definitely can't. Not because Yuuri isn't strong, he's got a level of emotional strength all his own, but that's not who he is and not how he functions, he blossoms with praise. So instead he points out where Yuuri improved his jump and suggested a softer turn to be easier on his ankles.  
  
Yuuri only responds with a hum and Viktor burns time rewinding the footage over and over again. Part of him can't get over how well Yuuri's improved and Yuuri's standing there, scratching the back of his head and curling his hands together.  
  
They haven't been living together for too long and they've been in a real, honest, romantic relationship for even less time but its clear Yuuri's got something on his mind. Has the footage worried him somehow, did something happen to his ankle to knock him off his game?  
  
He touches Yuuri's shoulder, the boy nearly jumps to the ceiling, surprise surprise, Yuuri's nervous. "Yuuri, calm down, I'm sure you'll win the Grand Prix and I'll be right beside you when you do."  
  
"Actually, its something else, I just don't know how to say it." Yuuri looks away, his face is reddening. He's clearly got something's on his mind. Viktor asks him to just say it, no matter how blunt or upset it is and Yuuri shakes his head, even more flustered. "I'm gonna head upstairs, all right?"  
  
"All right, take it easy and remember not to put too much strain on your leg while you're stretching."  
  
Viktor leaves it at that and Yuuri disappears up the steps. As much as he wants Yuuri to come out and say whats bothering him, pushing him into a corner and forcing it out isn't an option, or at least its not what works with Yuuri. Sometimes he needs time alone, sometimes things will be dealt with there and then. It'll work itself out.  
  
"Um, Viktor, are you coming?"  
  
Yuuri stands at the stairway, still doing everything he can to avoid eye contact. Meaning this is something to be dealt with now rather then later. Viktor shuts off his phone and pockets it to give Yuuri his undivided attention.  
  
"Yuuri, what's wrong?"  
  
"We need to talk about it upstairs, in either your room or my room, I t-think."  
  
Viktor gets up and follows Yuuri, ultimately deciding on his room for the talk. He sits on Yuuri's bed while Yuuri shuts the door behind them.  
  
Yuuri must be nervous about the Grand Prix, that's the only thing that could be weighing on his mind right now at this point in time. Everything else is moot, right? Or did he do something or forget something and hurt Yuuri? Viktor's old, he's got a shit memory and Yuuri takes things to heart. Its possible he ruined Yuuri's self confidence with an off kilter sentence.  
  
Yuuri walks back over to stand in front of Viktor, hiding his eyes by looking downward. It's a curiosity how after even they've been engaged Yuuri manages to be so shy, so hidden and closed in with himself when feelings come into the fold.  
  
"Yuuri, what's wrong?"  
  
Yuuri sniffles and mumbles something indecipherable before shaking his head and laughing dryly. "I'm sorry this is stupid, what am I doing?"  
  
Anxiety rears its ugly head from time to time and Viktor's slowly learning there's not much he can do about it but ease Yuuri through it. Viktor caresses Yuuri's cheeks and slowly raises his head, Yuuri's uneasy exhale is audible. "It's okay, you can tell me exactly what you're feeling at any time, all right?"  
  
"I wanna do it."  
  
Oh, well then, that's a better outcome then he thought. Yuuri cups his hands over his mouth and shakes his head. "Wait, I mean I, I don't know if I'm asking right?"  
  
Viktor sweeps his hand over his mouth since Yuuri'll find his grin disheartening. He's so innocent at heart he has no idea how to proposition his own fiance for sex. Where is he going to start with this precious child, honestly.  
  
Viktor squeezes his mouth until he can ease his smile away and draws the back of his fingers across Yuuri's cheek. "It's fine, its a process you'll learn eventually, all right? Come here."  
  
Viktor sits against the head of the bed and Yuuri climbs on next to him. Or when he was memory blackout drunk gliding and down a strippers pole, damn near naked with another world famous skater.  
  
If he didn't know Yuuri, his nervousness would seem fabricated. After doing a stripping routine in a ballroom filled with people while memory blackout drunk and gliding down a strippers pole with another world famous skater, what the hell would he possibly have to be nervous about?  
  
Viktor starts with something simple, non-threatening. He glides his hand over Yuuri's chest and hears his breath catch right at the point where his finger stops, then glides his full palm downward until its hovering above the hem line of his jeans. Yuuri whispers something so soft and sacred, he doesn't dare ask about it.  
  
Viktor pulls at the jean belt loop and Yuuri automatically leans back, holding himself up with his hands. Good, he has enough sense of mind to know the more obvious things. Viktor leans forward until he's in Yuuri's personal space with his hair hovering above Yuuri's face and draws another hand down his back. Yuuri swallows, his eyes are wide as saucers and he's trembling.  
  
Viktor pulls at the front of his jeans again, this time at the hem and Yuuri looks down with something like fright in his eyes. He makes a muted note of noise, if he meant to speak he discards the motion, licks his lips and keeps his mouth shut.  
  
"Lie back for me." He whispers and Yuuri blinks as if he's woken up from a trance, then eases himself back to the bed.  
  
On one hand, Yuuri's gorgeous, his body is a trained and delicate work of art begging to be touched and until it melts through the hands with half choked back moans and subtle, shaking hips. His personality is everything pure and sweet and fragile, so whenever anything remotely sexual happens, he can't help but think of seeing Yuuri in that ballroom, flaunting everything he has with no reserve or embarrassment. Nothing to hide, everything and more to show and give.  
  
On the other, he's the ex-bachelor that had half the world wondering if they were bi and he'll be damned if he lets himself get sexually out done by Yuuri on any level. Yuuri has some self confidence, he knows how much of flirt he can be and what he can...provide and with how much he can flaunt it when he's snatching his tie between his hands, licking his lips, pointing his way. There are things Yuuri tempts out of Viktor that almost frighten him.  
  
To some its a challenge, to Viktor its an invitation for competition, so he competes.  
  
Viktor ducks his head low and takes the zipper of his pants between his teeth. Yuuri makes eye contact with him and hisses out a sharp note. He draws it down with ease and smiles at the feeling of heated flesh against his chin. Yuuri shuts his eyes and leans back, his mouth moving around invisible, quiet words.  
  
Viktor rests his head on one hand and frees Yuuri from his jeans with the other. "They say going commando's unhealthy, Yuuri."  
  
Viktor takes his time, stroking him until Yuuri's breath is just barely audible. They don't do it often but this isn't the first time they've had sex but it is the first time he's had a chance to watch Yuuri come apart slowly. The first time they'd been bathing in the onsen downstairs, buzzed and cuddly warm, all awkward limbs learning how to move and please each other. Yuuri spent half the time telling him to 'hold on' and wiping his forehead, overheating until they'd awkwardly tip toed upstairs and finished with each other's names on their lips, clinging and shaking together.  
  
Despite having nothing to be ashamed of Yuuri's gotten no less embarrassed about intimacy. His face goes beet red when Viktor stops playing around and licks his dribbling head and he presses the back of his hand to his mouth on instinct to stop his moans. He whispers that he can't handle any more of it, despite his incredible stamina. Viktor reaches up and snatches his hand away, "I want to see you, let me see you."  
  
Yuuri licks his lower lip and he groans through grit teeth as his head hits the bed. "Fuck me." Viktor has to reel back a laugh, they've been engaged for some time, seen each other naked even since before the engagement, bathing in the onsen, and fucked in damn near full view of his parents. Yet Yuuri gets so flustered over getting his cock teased.  
  
He can't just utterly ruin him and be done with it, Yuuri's already a nervous mess about sex the better half of the time. Plus, Yuuri falls apart with cute little pants and tiny whispers, something like a sound toy played with rather than worked to orgasm. He can save running him ragged after the Grand Prix, when they can calm down and have more alone time. He wants to fully explore Yuuri's...eros as it were, after the competition.  
  
Viktor lavishes him with attention. On the first night they had sex, Yuuri lied on his side and looked Victor straight in the eyes as he went from blushing to a whimpering, quivering mess. His hands reaching up and scratching lines into Viktor's shoulder, whispering his name like a reverent prayer.  
  
Viktor sweeps up a pearl of precum with his tongue. Yuuri melts and tries to hide his voice with a hand over his mouth and fails, miserably so.  
  
Viktor seperates his mouth from Yuuri and scoops him up in his arms, Yuuri's arms curl around his neck. He's so...strangely tiny and cute and he smells of flowers and his skin is soft and warm like he's just popped out of the shower. There's an urge to protect him from the rest of the world, when he's laid bare like this but it's only a matter of time before his family comes back and, he'd keep going out of sheer desire but Yuuri has far too much shame to have sex while anyone else is home.  
  
Viktor moves to take off Yuuri's shirt, but Yuuri stops him and sets his glasses down on the desk besides the bed. Viktor chuckles, kisses his bare shoulder while Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor's waist.  
  
"Viktor, I love you." Yuuri reaches for his hand.  
  
Viktor intertwines them at the fingers. "I love you too, Yuuri."  
  
Viktor kisses a line across Yuuri's collarbone and Yuuri pouts a little, looking away. "Should I, I mean I'm not well versed in these sorts of things but the-the nightstand."  
  
Ah, Yuuri's quite a smart boy for someone so 'not well versed'. Viktor gets the lube and two condoms out of the side drawer and smiles, "I don't remember these being here the first time."  
  
"Well, I mean I wouldn't just run up and ask you and n-not..." Yuuri trails off and sits there on the bed with his hands in his nude lap as if he's got a spotlight shining down on him, if he gets any more embarrassed he might literally shrink up and die.  
  
Viktor shakes his head and smiles to himself. If Yuuri this embarrassed about doing this, he could imagine watching Yuuri awkwardly picking out the lube and condoms and trying his best to hide how unbelievably unpracticed he is.  
  
"Um, do we need to do like a particular position or something or whatever?"  
  
"Doesn't matter, however you feel is most comfortable."  
  
Yuuri laughs, one hand rubbing his opposing shoulder. "I was hoping my comfort wouldn't be the focus here, actually."  
  
Blame all the godawful pining he's been doing because, as much as he loves being in Japan with Yuuri he's can't stand how much of a bunch of homebodies the rest of the family is. It's damn near impossible to get him alone and ready with enough time between competitions for any soreness to not affect his performance and nothing happens in his inn, ever, its so peaceful it hurts.  
  
So when Yuuri laughs and talks about not wanting sex to be comfortable, the only thing he can think involves a collar, more lube than what might be available and plenty of disgusting, subhuman pet names. Yuuri's mouth opening and accepting his fingers, him pushing them back until he's pressing against him and Yuuri's throat swallows them.  
  
Viktor sighs and pecks Yuuri's forehead and cheek. Yuuri hums and turns around to sit in his lap, Viktor sits them against the headboard of the bed. He focuses on nibbling on Yuuri's neck while his fingers ease down past the slope of Yuuri's ass and rub against him. Yuuri's so compliant, so relaxed and he comes open easily.  
  
"Hurry." Yuuri whispers.  
  
"Impatient, impatient, tsk tsk Yuuri."  
  
"Sorry," He is eventually going to have to teach Yuuri when he's being teased. "I just spent a lot of time practicing and erm- stretching is all."  
  
"You stretched yourself out just for me? How cute, I'm so wanted~" He teases and kisses Yuuri's cheek, Yuuri takes a huge breath, hiding his face in his hands. Viktor reaches around, draws his nails over one of Yuuri's nipples and follows his body down until Yuuri melts face first into the bedspread, whispering pleas under his breath that are just out of his range of hearing.  
  
As cute as he makes it sound, he can't help but indulge in thinking of how those sessions went. Yuuri, face down on this very bed knuckle deep in himself, panting in struggle with nothing but Viktor in his mind. Yuuri's first thought of 'how can I be good for him?' and of how deep Viktor could press into him until their hips slapped together with every thrust.  
  
The Grand Prix needs to end tomorrow, if he has to wait almost a month to ruin Yuuri he'll lose his mind.  
  
He covers his fingers in lube and runs his hand against Yuuri's thigh. Only something else to focus on as he enters him, fingers slipping into that warm heat to the sound of a breathless gasp. Yuuri shifts underneath and from the looks of it despite all that practices there's still something discomfort.  
  
Viktor kisses his back, pushes a little further. Unlike Yuuri he isn't entirely unlearned in this, he's had boyfriends, cute one nighters, the usual thing a celebrity would have, nothing too personal or intimate and this isn't their first time. So when after a full minute, he can't find Yuuri's prostate and he pauses, confused. He pushes forward a little while longer until Yuuri shouts his name, voice on the verge of breaking.  
  
"There we go."  
  
Viktor teases that spot with the pads of his fingers. The hand on Yuuri's thigh serves as an anchor when Yuuri begins to shake. Yuuri begs him to hurry with a breaking whimper and he torments him until Yuuri's rolling his hips, breathing swears.  
  
A sob wafts through the air when he pulls out his fingers. Viktor grabs his hips and hisses; Yuuri's hips are flush against his, his skin lets off warmth and his hips shiver ever so slightly where he presses in his fingers. He's half a mind to tease, slow down and ruin Yuuri in a softer, gentler way, until his toes are curling in the sheets, nails are carving tracks down his back and their legs intermingle.  
  
He guides Yuuri into place and pushes into him with a sharp thrust. Yuuri cries out and grabs Viktor's arm to make him slow down. A sharp urge to suddenly begin fucking him into the bedspread, whisper filthy things to him and grab handfuls of his hair so he can't muffle all his cute little sounds against the sheets. After the Grand Prix when things have slowed down and Yuuri can afford the delay in recovery, but not now.  
  
Slowly, he starts moving inside of Yuuri. Everything is so velvet and soft, wrapping around him like a vice as if Yuuri doesn't want him to ever leave. Yuuri sighs and shifts against him, "Too slow." He snaps his own hips back and burying Viktor in him to the hilt with a sharp yelp.  
  
Yuuri is deadset on snapping the last few threads of his self control. Viktor speeds up enough that Yuuri stops moving and exhales sweet nothings. His hand glides down Viktor's arm until it drops between his legs and strokes himself in time with Viktor's thrusts.  
  
His hand is gathering the sheets, Yuuri hisses and whispers, "That's right, that's right...fuck me - right there, damn it."  
  
Yuuri's eyes flash up to look at him and back down to there their hips meet. His stare is piercing, disarming even, as if he's got a mental list of all the best ways to fuck him out of his mind. Viktor licks his lips and looks away, if he doesn't Yuuri will seduce him even further, make him want to indulge even more.  
  
Hips snap back into his and force his eyes down back at Yuuri, wearing the slyest sneer he's ever seen. Viktor can't bring himself to stop at the clear sound downstairs of the door opening and someone gasping at the sound of Yuuri ordering Viktor to fuck him open. He can ignore it; so long as Yuuri hasn't noticed, its all collateral damage.  
  
But that does mean this has to end fast, getting death glares from Yuuri's parents isn't the best way to start up the countdown to the Grand Prix.  
  
Viktor loops his arms around Yuuri's waist and pulls him up until he's weakly balancing on Viktor's waist. "Here, here Yuuri," Viktor kisses the back of his head and guides Yuuri's hand to his leaking erection. One day he'll have the through and needed time to fully spend hours making Yuuri his -- one day, soon maybe.  
  
Yuuri's hands start to shake and go uneven, he cups Yuuri's hands and leads him through stroking in a brutal rhythm. Yuuri shouts hoarse, then hums a long, tenuous note before his voice breaks and his toes curl into the sheets. Viktor kisses his neck, until his shivering and shaking stops and the salty tang of Yuuri's sweat lingers in his mouth. Yuuri settles limply in his lap. His sticky hands touch his waist, Viktor chuckles and whispers he should rest and wipes his hands off on the blanket. Yuuri cranes his neck to press a kiss to Viktor's chin, then crawls into bed.


End file.
